


Troubled Minds

by placentalmammal



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Facials, Gags, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Other, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11672418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: Mako turns to Cass for comfort after a job goes south. Set sometime before the events of episode 1.





	Troubled Minds

Mako doesn’t sleep that night. He sits on the edge of Cass’ bed with his data pad, scanning the headlines. The shooting in the café ranks a single line in the crime blotter, a one-sentence description of the crime scene, no names or incriminating details. Mako sets the datapad aside and draws his knees up to his chest, staring fixedly at the wall. He supposes he should be grateful that their names aren’t in the news, supposes they have Jamil to thank for that.

He brings a hand to his mouth to chew on his cuticles. His nail polish has begun to chip and flake, he needs to reapply it—Cass won’t let him finger them until he does. He frowns down at his ragged fingernails and then up at the wall, mind racing. He can’t stop replaying the details of the shooting—when he closes his eyes, he sees them, _actually_ sees them playing out behind his eyelids. He was in the security system when it happened, he saw it happen on all the cameras, saw it from every angle. The Horizon thug reaching into her jacket, the barista’s panicked scream, the starburst of light and sound as the doctor’s head snapped back on their neck and they fell to the ground—

They fucked up.

They fucked up real bad. Things have gone sideways before, but never like this. Whatever else has happened, they’ve always got in and out clean. Maybe they didn’t get paid, maybe they pissed someone off, but they never got anyone killed.

He bites down hard, and tastes blood. He takes his fingers out of his mouth and wipes them on the sheets. Cass’ll be mad, but whatever.

He picks up the datapad again, casting a sideways glance at Cass. They’re sleeping soundly, apparently untroubled by the day’s events, their chest rising and falling evenly, hair falling down over their forehead. It’s getting long, long enough to curl in the back where it brushes their collar. Mako reaches out to run his fingers through it and Cass stirs, cracking an eyelid to peer at him.

“Still awake?” they murmur. They catch Mako’s hand and bring it to their lips, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

“Yeah,” says Mako. “Just doing some reading.”

“You should get some sleep.” They prop themselves up on their elbow to study him, and the blankets slip down their bare chest to their waist. Mako’s eyes flick over their bare torso, and his mouth goes dry.

“I’m not tired.”

Cass hums and leans over to take the datapad from Mako’s unresisting hands. They shut it off and set it aside, and then they kiss his wrist again, tracing a line up the sensitive skin to his elbow. Mako shivers and lets himself be pulled down and kissed properly. It’s slow, searing, familiar, and Mako responds in kind, moaning against Cass’ mouth. They bundle him into their arms and kiss him breathless, one hand braced on Mako’s chest.

Mako arches up into the contact. When Cass kisses him, his mind stills, just for a moment. It’s impossible to focus on anything outside himself when Cass’ mouth is on his, so Mako hooks his legs around the Apostolistian’s waist and pulls their body flush against his own.

Cass chuckles. “Put your hands up over your head,” they murmur, sucking a bruise into his throat right at the junction of neck and shoulder. “You want me to suck you off?”

Whimpering, Mako nods and does as he’s told, stretching his hands out and bringing them to rest on the wall above the bed. “Good boy,” says Cass, and they run their hands down the long lines of Mako’s body, kissing a trail down his sunken chest to his belly. Mako’s already half-hard, and he nearly cries from relief when their fist closes around his cock.

“Quiet,” says Cass, settling themself between Mako’s spread legs. “You don’t want Aria to hear, do you?”

Mako shakes their head no, but then Cass is squeezing the base of his cock and their mouth is on him and all rational thought is driven from his head. Moaning, he thrusts up into Cass’ mouth, hands flexing convulsively on the smooth metal wall. He’s babbling, nonsense words spilling from his lips as Cass licks along his length, taking him deeper and deeper until the head of his cock hits the back of their throat.

“Oh fuck, Cass, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he pants, “ _god_ , Cass, you feel so good—”

They chuckle around Mako’s cock, and the vibrations end his sentence prematurely. He keens, hips thrusting up against their mouth, and Cass pulls off his cock with a wet, obscene _pop_.

“Not so loud,” they say, frowning up at him. “AuDy or Aria hear—”

Mako is trembling, thighs quaking as he presses his hands flat against the wall, struggling to find purchase. His cock aches where it lies neglected on his stomach, slick with spit and precome. “I can be good,” he says, wild and desperate. “Cass, please, I need your mouth, I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” says Cass, reflexively.

“I’m _dying_ , literally dying—”

They pinch Mako’s thigh and he yelps, startled. He shoots a wounded look at Cass, who offers a kiss instead of an apology, and then reaches to pick a discarded undershirt up off the floor. It’s Mako’s, cast off earlier in the evening, when they fucked hard and raw and messy, still high off adrenaline.

“Here.” They thrust it at him unceremoniously and look up at him expectantly.

Mako swallows and turns the shirt over in his hands. He opens his mouth to ask _what_ , exactly, Cass intends for him to do with it, but they cut him off with an impatient gesture.

“Gag yourself,” they say, imperious and commanding.

And _that_ does something for Mako. Clumsy in his eagerness, he stuffs the undershirt into his mouth and returns his hands to the wall. He’s barely had time to adjust to the feel of dry cotton on his tongue when Cass’ mouth is on him again, swirling their tongue around the flushed head of his cock. His moan is swallowed up by the makeshift gag.

Cass grins up at them, wrapping their hand around the base of his cock to hold him off while they suck him, loud and messy and _good_. They make a show of it, kissing along his length before they take him fully into their mouth. Mako props his head up to watch them, and it’s the _sight_ of them, more than the feel of their mouth, that sends him over the edge.

He comes with a stifled shout. Cass pulls back as he does, and he finishes all over their face, painting their lips and chin with his spunk. Mako cringes at the sight of it, but Cass seems to revel in the dirtiness of it, grinning at him as they reach up and pull the undershirt out of his mouth.

“Good boy,” they say, patting his cheek, and for once, Mako can’t find the words to respond. He tips his head to the side and presses a tremulous kiss to the heel of Cass’ palm, eyes fixed on their face as they wipe their mouth with his undershirt and drop it back on the floor.

Cass settles down beside Mako and kisses him again, one hand on his jaw. “Feel better?” they murmur.

Mako nods and Cass makes a small, self-satisfied sound. “Good. Now sleep, and we’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”

He nods again and obeys, unthinking.


End file.
